"Tell me, do you like working?" he asked, pointedly.
"Oh, heavens, no! I hate it!" I reacted immediately, without even thinking. "I mean," I recovered, "I used to. I like the idea of working. I'm good at it. Or I used to be. You know, it's my field. But then I had all these kids, and really, that wasn't even the tricky part, it's just that then all this with the J-man and all this coordinating and I'm pulled in all these directions. You know, sooner or later, something has to give. But I have to work. How else would I pay you?"
Where did that come from? There I was in the developmental pediatrician's office babbling as though I was at my own therapist's office. Not that I have a therapist. Maybe I should, but who has the time? But seriously, since when do I hate working? When did that happen, exactly? Who is this person that I've become?
Karen is the contributing editor for ADHD. She writes daily at her personal blog, Chez Perky, where she covers not only life with her vroombunctious preschooler, but also triplets.